


Echo

by manizu



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, Hidden Depths, Hope in the Hope that Hopes in You, It Kills Me Every Time, canon-level Link/Mipha, sibling angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 17:44:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11537247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manizu/pseuds/manizu
Summary: To My Dear Friend: Yesterday you caught me off guard. I have seen the same statue for nearly one hundred years, but on that day, when I stood in front of it…Sidon writes a letter.





	Echo

To My Dear Friend:

                Yesterday you caught me off guard. I have seen the same statue for nearly one hundred years, but on that day, when I stood in front of it…

                Even though she is no longer here, I could not help speaking to her.

                When I turned around, you stood behind me. You have always walked quietly; Zora footsteps often come with the faint _squish_ of water, but Hylian boots are dry.

                I have always seen that statue the same way. She _was_ my brave sister; but in the end, she _was,_ to me, my hope of something more.

                I believe the change came when you emerged from within the Beast. Some part of me had hoped that she still lived inside it—tending to the turning gears and curtailing its rampage as best she could. Some part of me had hoped that she would return alongside you.

                Only you came back—you, who had heard her final words.

                At the time, I would have given anything to hear her voice. Had we not been surrounded by my people, I believe I would have…

                I smiled, and shook your hand instead.

                If her spirit or body could not be found within the Beast, I could only search one more place: the statue. Yet you were there; you saw that she did not answer.

                I began chasing her voice the day she left. I asked my father,

                _Where is she?_

He looked off.

                _“She…is with the Beast now.”_

He would not tell me, but I heard from others…what my sister had done.

                _“You may not see it now, but…your sister is a hero.”_

_A hero?_

_“She—the Champions—they gave their lives to save us all.”_

_“Dear, don’t say that. Saved? We’re not—“_

_“They saved us—and your sister, she saved us. Don’t forget that.”_

If she had saved us, then I wanted to save her. If she was a hero, then I wanted to be a hero.

                My memories of the Hero grew dim, but I committed her face to memory. Her statue served as a reminder—her kind smile, her level-headed grace, and her innate desire to help.           

                From that day, I pushed myself. I swam as far as I could, nearly collapsing in exhaustion every day; when I could swim for miles on end, I turned to scaling waterfalls. More and more monsters twisted by the Calamity began to take notice of our Domain; as time went on, the guards began to leave the work of defense to me. When a feud broke out, I tried to calm it as she once had; when approached with a problem, I tried to solve it with the same smile she bore.

                I believe, at some point, I became someone that others looked up to—but as for me, I looked only to her.

                From that day, I also began planning incessantly to enter the Beast. Still a child, I ventured out to try to discover its weaknesses. It ended poorly—even an adult Zora can hardly withstand the electric shock from the monsters surrounding the Domain, and one as young as me would surely return badly burned (if I returned at all). From there, I could only study the ancient etchings of the Beast and stab blindly at its secrets.

                When I became older, I began to venture out at night. I carefully avoided the monsters I could, and fought off the ones I could not with a wooden spear. After about an hour’s journey, I finally reached it: the towering metal beast, more grand and yet more terrible than the legends could have ever described. I laid low, searching out any possible chip in its armor that I could not discern from mere records; however, it increasingly seemed impenetrable.

                My visits became more and more frequent, until, for a time, I returned to the lake where it rampaged every night. Obsessively I plotted its movements, carefully taking note of every slight deviation or variation. It never stopped moving, trudging on through humid summers and crashing through winter ice.  

                One night, a thunderstorm blew in just as I reached the water’s edge. In my narrow-mindedness, I did not turn back; I had to learn any weakness it may have. If I could not stand through a thunderstorm for that, I could not save anyone.

                I crouched as low as I could, covering my head as the thunder and wind roared. I watched the sky, keeping far from nearby trees and the water’s edge. I had come so far, and studied so much; I had to weather the storm and return with an answer.

                My eyes seared as a bolt of lightning arced down from the clouds, striking a node on its back. The Beast reared back as if roaring; deafened by thunder, its cry never reached me. It stood still, the dorsal light blinking on and off. After a few minutes, it recovered, the light shining as if nothing had ever happened.

                So. Like us, then, its weakness was electricity.

                But how could I get lightning to strike it again? It would be too dangerous to climb its back during a storm and set up a lightning rod on each node. Further, its thrashing might dismount it before lightning could strike. We would need something much quicker in order to hit every node before it could recover.

                And then, I remembered. Every once in a while, merchants would come to our Domain from faraway lands with rare goods. Although the Zora have produced Ice Arrows for centuries, we have yet been unable to replicate other varieties; because of this, a merchant carrying a wide selection of arrows often makes a stir.

                A few years before, a merchant had arrived with a stock of Shock Arrows. Although I was occupied with my studies of the Beast, I still heard of their taboo allure from the Zora who longed to touch them.

                Many years later, I read of a recipe for an elixir which could ward off the effects of electricity. If I slathered my hands with it, I thought, I could draw a bow with a Shock Arrow and breach its defenses.

                I began to pay more attention to the merchants that occasionally passed through. Fewer and fewer became willing to make the journey, but I managed to scrounge together the necessary ingredients from a few travelers. Now, all that remained was to wait for a merchant that could bring me a Shock Arrow.

                One day, a Gerudo woman stopped to rest for the night. She seemed uneasy around the men of our Domain, but as I talked with her—about the town she left behind, about the places she had seen—she began to relax. Eventually, the topic of conversation shifted to her wares.

                _“Oh, arrows? They’re a specialty of the Gerudo. No one else in the world can craft a tip so fine it pierces the air, yet so strong it flies straight to its target. My pack is full of them.”_

_And Shock Arrows? What of those?_

_“Of course. Arrows made with the concentrated extract of Voltfruit are unmatched by any other.”_

I drew my hand back as she pulled the arrow out of the bag’s pocket.

                _…Please place it on the ground, if you could._

_“On…the ground?”_

_As you Gerudo ‘vai’ must keep your guard up around ‘voe,’ we Zora cannot abide electricity. So, please…_

_“What’s the point, then? If you can’t even touch it, why do you want it so badly?”_

I pulled the stopper out of the bottle I had prepared, rubbing a bit of the elixir on my palms. I took a breath, and reached down to touch the arrow’s tip—

                Intense pain surged through my body. My vision narrowed, and I fell back, aware only of the burning spreading up through my arm.

                The merchant picked up the bottle that had fallen from my hand.

                _“What’re you doing with something like this?”_ Her tone both pejorative and amused, she turned the bottle over. _“’Electro Elixir?’ Isn’t that something the Hylians came up with?”_

It was true. I had discovered the recipe in a book left behind by a Hylian merchant.

                _Then…you’re saying…_

_“I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I’ll give you credit: that’s pretty creative. But it’s not going to work for someone like you; your body makeup is completely different.”_

After she left, I pushed the arrow around with the tip of the wooden spear. There had to be some way…perhaps some ancient material, or—         

                _“Hmph.”_

                I was so focused on the dilemma before me that I didn’t notice his approach—or that he had been watching the entire time.

                _“How long have you been trying to figure this out, anyway?”_

_…_

I told him the whole story, from beginning to end.

_“And you still haven’t come up with anything? Pathetic. Why, if it’s as simple as just shooting a Shock Arrow at it—“_

He picked up the arrow, dropping it immediately as the shock passed through him.

                _“…Then I’ll just keep touching it until I can handle it. Simple enough, right?”_

I left him to it.

                It became clear: perhaps one like me could not trespass in the inner workings of the Beast. Perhaps that was a duty left only to the Hero who had disappeared so long ago.

                I could not bear that thought. If it was true, then there was nothing I could do.

                Surely—surely, there had to be a way to enter the Beast. Surely there could be a way to save…

                If the elixir would only work for a Hylian, then perhaps a Hylian could handle a Shock Arrow.

                I kept the bottle with me, ensuring that it would not be found. The following day, I made a public announcement:

                _Vah Ruta’s rampage can be stopped. However, the Zora cannot halt it alone. In order to board the Divine Beast, we must seek help from beyond the Domain. We need to find…_

I did not know what reaction my people would have. If our isolated Domain has one fault, it is that it has always seen very little interaction with those beyond its borders—and this certainly was not helped by the dangers brought on by the Calamity. Some of the older Zora still harbor undue resentment against outsiders.

                Yet I was astonished by their willingness to mobilize. Without knowing the reason, even civilians were willing to go beyond the safety of the Domain to seek out a Hylian. I kept watch at the apex of the bridge as long as my duties would allow, scanning for a Hylian warrior that could bring down the Beast. I believe I may have startled you when we first met—but when I saw your small Hylian frame and the bow on your back, I could not contain my excitement. To me, you represented nearly one hundred years of hope that I could see her again. The bottle I pressed into your hands that day was the same one I had spent years preparing; in your hands, I hoped it would finally save my sister—the sister whose voice I echoed from childhood.

                And despite everything, you did. Although she did not return to me, you set her spirit free. For that, I still cannot thank you enough.

                I want you to know that I no longer seek her voice. When I turned around that day, I had a strong feeling—somehow, she was with you, beside you. You, who she loved so dearly.

                Now, Mipha no longer guides me, but you. I hope that, in the end, you—both of you—can finish what was begun one hundred years ago.

                I hope that…

               

* * *

 

              _Ink smudged as the letter was immediately shoved into an envelope._

_It fluttered down from the side of the bridge, carried away by current and silt._

**Author's Note:**

> If you talk to Sidon in front of Mipha’s statue, you get Prime Angsty Fanfic Material.  
> The idea here isn’t that Sidon “Became the Mask,” but was young enough when Mipha died that imitating her became his central sense of identity. In other words, he began chasing her when his identity was still in the formative stage, and his vision of who she was stuck in his personality. (TL;DR: Sidon accidentally became Bootleg Mipha, and this fic has lost any seriousness it may have had.)  
> (On a side note, I went to study Sidon’s speech patterns to pick up his “voice,” and his way of speaking in Japanese and English is really different. It’s almost funny how coarse and informal his speech is in Japanese compared to the English translation…personally, I like them both.)


End file.
